The Twelfth Day of Christmas is here! This is your final chance to wish family and friends MERRY CHRISTMAS — or Blessed Epiphany — until the calendar spins all the way to December again.
Okay, so some of you are not calendar people. However, I cling to the old ways. Two rooms of my home host a paper calendar on a hook (or pin in corkboard). A datebook resides in my purse. A planner is within reach at my desk. And yes — for those of you of a younger generation — many important meetings and appointments are tapped into an electronic version.
Unmarred, these calendars five years ago were ready to be placed into prominent locations.
Calendars do not go to waste in this writer’s household. Each new story — even the ones suspended due to lack of real substance — gets events plotted out. How long between the meet-cute and the next encounter? When does the villain set foot on stage? Can I center an event around a holiday? (The year has more holidays than those in December.) Oh — we’ve had a season change — how does that figure into the weather or time of sunset.
In the clean and wholesome romance, MORNING TRYST, our heroine photographer tours Missouri State Parks capturing images used in tourist brochures and other publicity materials. I like to imagine one of these items is a calendar — with several spectacular sunrises and sunsets featuring forested hills or rolling grassland.
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